Hover Eye
by Krin
Summary: [Discontinued] Part of SnowyFox's Haven Divided Arc. A story of the KG in Dead Town the day the Metal Heads invaded! Rated for war violence, yay. All OCs but tied to canon events.


**This story is supposed to be part of an Arc called Haven Divided that SnowyFox is organizing; a set of stories about the people of Haven on the day the Metal Heads invaded! (Yay!) As far as I know, other people who might write for this as well are MandyPandaa, DarkerSideoftheMoon, Ekobean, NeoRemmy, and da Fox himself. Apologies if any of you aren't going to be in it, I just stole the list off SnowyFox's IM info. **

**That said, this is muuuuch different than the other things I have done. It's about a group of KG's. Please enjoy the fic, ask SnowyFox if you're interested in joining, and leave a review! (especially if you're an author who doesn't want their name in the author note pararaph above for some reason.)**

**Oh, and this fic is officially dedicated to SnowyFox. :D**

"_Hover Eye, we've got MH possibility. Visibility poor on ground and from RazorBlade. Can you confirm? 'Blade over."_

_Twenty double plated Precursor-bronze 50:50 alloy auxiliary helmets click against far-sight lenses. Nineteen whispers flutter through the communication ether._

"_Multiple aquatic sightings 275° due South. Hover Eye out."_

_Metallic fins slice through the mist seven stories down._

"_Island Troop Five; imminent surfacing of enemy. Hover Eye out."_

_The Krimzon Guards below draw their weapons and train lasers on the mass of chilly fog rolling in from the water._

"_IT5 holding steady."_

_Raw energy forks through the haze, igniting tiny clumps of reeds into flaming towers._

"_They're flanking us! Island Five Troop requesting immediate assistance!" _

_Dead Town is swarming back to life._

"Hover Eye, we have Metal Heads on every major island and dispersed throughout the aquatic area. High difficulty in visuals. RazorBlade out."

"Copy," I wave to the nineteen soldiers around me. "_Berserk_." They immediately assume the protective/offensive positions we'd hammered into their brains for six years and blast away. The gunshot trails are yellow slashes through the fog. "Hover Eye activated." The RazorBlade swings out of a cloud of smoke. I turn and wave to the red airship.

"Keep 'em off our asses," crackles the pilot, Spine. "Vackting fog."

"Gonna concentrate on land cells," I respond.

Agony screams over the links from Island Seven and the ship is gone.

"Voice! Targets on Islands One through Three have been eliminated," Digger whispers. His words warped through my sweaty headset warped.

"There will be more."

"Yes, Voice."

The whispers rattle around my ears as the nineteen give progress reports. I squat down on the roof top. Hover Eye, the elite sharp shooting branch of the KG, is situated on the highest structurally stable building left in Dead Town. The nineteen kneeling in formation are linked to only me and each other. Inessential transmissions do not break their concentration. I am the Hover Eye Voice; I give our reports to the RazorBlade. Spine is responsible for information transfer from me to the rest of the KG.

I center my 'scope and watch for aerial attacks from the East, our most vulnerable side. The lens attempts to screen through the fog, a patchwork of red gunshots and glowing skull gems. Everything is cold and wet with condensation. The stench of spent adrenaline is spiraling up from the men below.

"Voice," Spat's gritting her teeth, I can tell, "highly recommend cluster attack on I13."

"You heard her," I whisper, "Digger, Spat and MonkeyBoy, I13."

"Would recommend more, Voice."

"Copy." I turn my far-sight onto Island 13. My world becomes a tiny circle ringed in black.

Island Force 13 was hit by a pack of Gutters. The huge Metal Heads stomp around the gored bodies. Two men are left, standing back to back and firing like all hell into the shadows. The mud below their steel boots is churning red. Behind them, clumps of reeds are ablaze. Gutters flit between curling tendrils of white mist and smoke.

The fog and the fire and the glittering Gutter blades send my target arrow spinning.

I scan the circle again. There's a possibility; a Metal Head raising an arm, about to expose a weakness in its skin. I tighten my finger around the trigger. The creature pounces the closest man, fading in and out of the fog. I count the milliseconds, waiting for the perfect shot. A noise gnashes through my helmet, breaking my concentration. I blink. "Spat. Stop grinding your damn teeth!" The man falls, a Gutter blade through his head. "Drisch!"

"Got one targeted," whispers MonkeyBoy.

A flash of yellow engulfs my far-sight. The lens is focusing and polarizing, but can't filter the Hover Eye blasts from the rest of the illuminated mess.

In the corner of my peripheral vision I see Digger wiping his lens furiously. Spat swears over the link. A few seconds later, it is clear that we can do no more for the men of IF 13.

"Abort Island 13," I command. "RazorBlade, Island 13 is now unstable. All Guards there have been terminated. There is a breach in the line. Relay to nearby troops."

"Affirmative," Spine says. His link crackles badly. I can hear men screaming from outside the airship. The 'Blade must be low to the ground.

MonkeyBoy and Spat scream a warning. Before I turn, I feel the building sway. Roof shingles and insulation explode into the air. A brown cloud of debris flies up and Hover Eye is blind. A second explosion hits the roof top to my right, and I throw myself down. I know what's going on before Digger confirms it.

"We've got aerials!"

Purple projectiles streak through the debris cloud. I cover the back of my head and pray to the Precursors that the dark eco doesn't spread. Frantic whispers indicate the flying MHs are coming in from the East.

"Pyramid, now!"

I hear the nineteen scramble into the defensive position.

"We've got no visual!" says Spat.

"Fire!"

The fog to my left absorbs an insane amount of yellow light. The Metal Heads are so close I can hear them scream. Their return fire slams into the roof and it cracks. I grab my gun and try to see through the murk.

"We need to move!" MonkeyBoy whispers frantically.

"Hold your ground!"

I smell dark eco and suddenly I'm falling through seven stories' worth of ceilings and floors. I hear nineteen confused and frightened whispers. Now there are only eighteen. Now sixteen. I wrap my arms around my body. Everything is brown dust and pulverized wood. I break through the last floor and land knee-deep in mud. My ankles scream as the steel boots throb with impact.

"Report!" Condensation droplets run down the inside of my armor, mixing with sweat. Plaster and grit stick in the metal joints. My pulse pounds in my ears and I almost miss their messages.

Fifteen whispers come in. Four are wounded or worse.

"Disperse, find friendlies, and fire at anything that doesn't tell you not to!" The Hover Eye link goes dead.

My emergency light is broken. I breathe unsteadily and check my gun. It is undamaged. I yank the far-sight off and shove it into its storage space on my thigh. It won't do me any good down here. Only distant slivers of light come in through the cracked walls. "RazorBlade! Hover Eye has been disbanded! Do you read? The KG has lost bird's eye control!"

There is no response from Spine.

I try to pull my legs from the sucking mud. The air is heavy with humidity and the smell of burned plastic. All around me the foundations groan and shift. The sound reverberates throughout the building shell, echoing with the certainty of collapse. Outside the damaged walls I hear men dying.

A hysterical scream startles me. I whip around and squint through the darkness, readying my gun. "Who's there?"

"Hhhhhrrrrccchhh," the sound is sickening; a smashed face breathing around its bashed helmet. I recognize the man's pained hyperventilation immediately.

"MonkeyBoy!" I swing my arms and lunge forward. The thick mud pulls me back. I swear and try again. "Keep breathing! Put your light on!"

His answer is bubbly and unnerving. I can smell his blood from where I stand. The distant light turns yellow as a Hover Eye fires outside. A corner of the ceiling crumbles. MonkeyBoy whimpers as support beams rain down. I duck, almost touching my face to the mud. Faint red lights play across its shiny surface. MonkeyBoy's staccato gasps escalate into howls.

Something cracks across my back. I reach and grab it before it is lost to the darkness. It's a thin plumbing pipe. Stabbing it into the mud, I slowly head in the direction of MonkeyBoy's panicked screams.

As I pull myself through the sludge, I notice the water in my boots. I shiver. My armor is bent from the roof top explosions. A piece of the chest plate cuts into my ribs. I try to stop evaluating the damage, but with every step something new jabs into my body. Suddenly, the mud below thins to water and I stumble forwards.

Arms outstretched, I slide in. I feel the bulk of a man next to me and roll over. "Easy," I say, pushing myself up and gently reaching out. MonkeyBoy gasps. I find his shoulders. "Come on, soldier. Talk to me. Where's your light?"

I run my hands over him carefully. His emergency light is unbroken. I flick it on and hold it up. MonkeyBoy groans and shuts his eyes. Blood gushes from his nose and mouth. I pull up my helmet and gulp the stagnant air. I touch his face. "Hey! MonkeyBoy! Look alive, man." His eyelids flutter. "You got a pretty girl at home waiting for you. Open your eyes." I lower the light a little. He's sitting, submerged to the waist in dirty water. Ripples form on its surface over his knees, where his splintered nerves are causing his legs to convulse. His armor is ripped and covered in dark eco burns.

With a slosh, he manages to raise a hand. I grip it. MonkeyBoy gurgles something I can't make out. His irises are fading from green to white. "What's that? C'mon, man-"

The foundations scream. I jerk my head around and hold up the light. The far side of the building is swaying. "C'mon, man, we gotta go _now_." I hold the light between my teeth, squat, and grab MonkeyBoy's elbow. He shakes his head, his lips twitching. He kicks me involuntarily. "What?"

Blood pours down his chin, seeping between his shattered teeth. He takes a deep breath and makes an exaggerated motion. I bend my neck, putting my ear to his mouth. "What?"

"_Mercy_," he whispers.

I sigh. His hand snaps out of mine and his shoulders shake. I stand. The building rumbles. I hold the light in one hand and get my gun out with the other. MonkeyBoy slouches down into the muck, his fists clenching and unclenching. I pull down my helmet. From the corner of my eye, I see the far wall collapse. For a second, everything is white as the light from outside glares. In that second, I press the barrel against MonkeyBoy's temple and pull the trigger.


End file.
